Butter Songtext
von Skrilla
Butter Songtext
(Thank you, Timmy boy)
I just showed the bitch a Micro Drizzy Drac′, she like, "Where Drizzy?"
I drink lean and Percocets and Xanax bars, forgot my kidneys
I'm a zombie walkin′ crash-out boy for real, I'm startin' to hate rap
Why the fuck you think the nigga ain′t diss back? He got his face cracked
Shooters puttin′ BTA, I called him, "What's the ETA?"
FaceTime the route on 95, they doin′ 360 kmh (crash-out boys)
Load the vehicle up with choppas like a tank, that's how we ride
I keep two shooters in the back, one on my hip, that′s how we slide
High class pimpin'
Pushin′ P-P, tried to wrestle me now he back to pushin' beef
A piece-skie, 30 shots don't test me
I put switches on my Glocks, you got the drop, I put the dot on ′em
Please don′t ask me about a opp, I don't even know, I got a lot of them
Rick-y jeans, denim fabric, Denim Tears
I just got used Saint Laurent, Balenci on my underwear
Bipper of the year, don′t rate me underatted, underground?
I ain't even get the spotlight yet, when I do it′s goin' down (crash-out business)
Crashin′ out with all my crash-outs
I ain-I ain't know, nigga I just act out
Clean wock, no Tris', I′m ′bout to pass out
OD, oh gang that was a sad route
Get the back-end, cash it in, spin back around
Four deep, four sticks, four pounds
XD, Draco's, four rounds
I just showed the bitch a Micro Drizzy Drac′, she like, "Where Drizzy?"
I drink lean and Percocets and Xanax bars, forgot my kidneys
I'm a zombie walkin′ crash-out boy for real, I'm startin′ to hate rap
Why the fuck you think the nigga ain't diss back? He got his face cracked
I just showed the bitch a Micro Drizzy Drac′, she like, "Where Drizzy?"
I drink lean and Percocets and Xanax bars, forgot my kidneys
I'm a zombie walkin′ crash-out boy for real, I'm startin' to hate rap
Why the fuck you think the nigga ain′t diss back? He got his face cracked
Shooters puttin′ BTA, I called him, "What's the ETA?"
FaceTime the route on 95, they doin′ 360 kmh (crash-out boys)
Load the vehicle up with choppas like a tank, that's how we ride
I keep two shooters in the back, one on my hip, that′s how we slide
High class pimpin'
Pushin′ P-P, tried to wrestle me now he back to pushin' beef
A piece-skie, 30 shots don't test me
I put switches on my Glocks, you got the drop, I put the dot on ′em
Please don′t ask me about a opp, I don't even know, I got a lot of them
Rick-y jeans, denim fabric, Denim Tears
I just got used Saint Laurent, Balenci on my underwear
Bipper of the year, don′t rate me underatted, underground?
I ain't even get the spotlight yet, when I do it′s goin' down (crash-out business)
Crashin′ out with all my crash-outs
I ain-I ain't know, nigga I just act out
Clean wock, no Tris', I′m ′bout to pass out
OD, oh gang that was a sad route
Get the back-end, cash it in, spin back around
Four deep, four sticks, four pounds
XD, Draco's, four rounds
I just showed the bitch a Micro Drizzy Drac′, she like, "Where Drizzy?"
I drink lean and Percocets and Xanax bars, forgot my kidneys
I'm a zombie walkin′ crash-out boy for real, I'm startin′ to hate rap
Why the fuck you think the nigga ain't diss back? He got his face cracked
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
